


Coda 5X17 99 Problems

by Nehesemhotep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:51:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filling in a few gaps from this episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coda 5X17 99 Problems

“Gideon, now!” Sam’s voice rang piercing in the small chamber room.  Then Leah’s panicked voice, and David’s hesitation.

Shit. Dean thought even as Leah rapidly spoke in a strange language and her arms swung out, flinging him and Sam across the room.  The impact rattled him slightly, and Sam was the first to recover.  Dean heard his brother shout at Pastor Gideon to stop, and Dean stood, shaking his head slightly to clear it.  He looked over at Cas, who was still crumpled on the floor.

Dean had heard Cas’ pained cry when Leah started speaking but the spell she had thrown out must still be in effect, because he was writhing in agony.  Dean ran over to him, heart clenching, but already knowing that he couldn’t do anything.  Cas met his gaze briefly in pain, but was unable to speak or get up.

“Dean!” Sam was at the door, eyes sympathetic but urgent. Dean heard the struggle from down the hallway, and stood up, whispering an emphatic _dammit_ as he left.  

~~~

The room was silent as the occupants looked at the body of the girl, the false prophet, the whore of Babylon, still smoking on the floor.  David looked stunned, like it hadn’t struck him yet that this was real.  That his daughter was dead.  Any of it.

Dean exchanged a look with Sam, who nodded, still supporting David.  Then he was rushing back to the room, where Cas had, thank god, or whoever, had stopped struggling in pain. But he hadn’t gotten up either.  He was lying on his back, breath coming in shallow gasps, and as Dean knelt next to him, saw his wet eyes, which were blankly staring at the ceiling.  Dean spoke roughly as he leveled an arm behind Cas’ back and tried to help him to his feet, “This just hasn’t been your day, has it.”

The touch seemed to rouse Cas slightly, and his eyes focused on Dean briefly.  He tried to stand but rested nearly all of his weight on Dean.  Dean could already see the apology in his eyes just from that one moment, but was too damn tired to offer any consolation. So he just squeezed Cas’ hand slightly as he helped him to the door.  Sam met him there, the pastor looking only a little unsteady but unprotesting of Sam’s help.   “Cas, you okay?” The younger Winchester spoke concernedly.  Dean looked over at Cas, whose eyes were averted, tear tracks still drying on his cheeks.

“He’s fine Sam, let’s go.” Sam gave a small exasperated sigh but led the way to the entrance.  As they made their way, Dean could feel Cas start to fight the support, though it was clear his legs were apt to buckle at any time.  Cas’ jaw clenched and his eyes were still adamantly not looking at Dean.  Dean let Sam get a little ahead, pretending to shift his weight, “Cas, dammit, just…relax man, I got you.”  Dean’s shoulders slumped, feeling himself wanting to cry about this whole fucked up situation.

“Just, please, man.” Dean’s voice came out softer and more pathetic than he usually allowed himself, but he just didn’t care anymore.  Cas must have heard something in his voice, because he stopped trying to pull his weight away from Dean.  The four men paused outside the room where Leah’s body still lay, and David hedged on his feet, conflicted about leaving.  Dean was about to say something when he felt Cas’ chin turn and rest in the nest of his collarbone, his hair tickling his cheek and damp eyelashes against his neck.  He took a quick breath in.  Cas wasn’t exactly touchy feely, to put it mildly, and Dean wondered just how many times he needed comfort but just didn’t know how to ask or even think to ask.

So he refrained from any smart mouth comments and let Sam talk to Gideon, while he held Cas a little tighter around the waist and rubbed a couple circles on the hand he had tightly in his other palm.  Then the moment was gone, and they were out the doors, and Cas and David were settled in the impala.  

The drive to the motel was suffocating silent for a while, before Sam looked in the rear view mirror and said a little worriedly, “Hey, uh, Gideon, can you um, check to see if Cas, is still, uh, breathing?”  Dean’s head snapped back to look at Cas.  His eyes were closed and he had continually slumped further down the seat, completely unconscious.  

David reached out tentatively, one hand resting on Cas’ arm and the other held in front of his face. At first he said nothing, and Dean saw the hand resting on the trenchcoat clutch sharply, and Dean’s heart leapt into his chest. Then David sighed in relief,

“Yes, he’s breathing.”  Dean let out a breath, and Sam did the same.  Dean heard the tremor in David’s voice, and instantly felt guilty for the unwarranted resentment he had been harboring towards him.  It wasn’t enough that the god this pastor had served and believed in for so long allowed the apocalypse to start, or that his congregation had been picked apart by demons, or that his daughter was killed by a false prophet.  If the man had to add _may have inadvertently killed an angel_ to the list, that, well…

The motel was quiet at least.  David appeared to be lost in thought as Sam unpacked the first aid supplies and Dean helped Cas sit down on the bed.  Dean felt the angel’s gaze linger on him, and he turned away, images and thoughts of Cas laying in pieces on an abandoned warehouse, of Bobby’s wheelchair riddled with bullet holes.  He looked at Pastor Gideon, a religious man who was actually one that he might have listened to once.  He saw Jo, Ellen, Ash…

Hundreds of good people, torn apart by the Croatoan virus.  Or worse.  Because of him.  Dean felt Cas’ eyes track him as he walked towards the door.  Despite the exhaustion, there was already a glimmer of suspicion in the angel’s eyes.  Of course he knew. He always knew. He built Dean’s body and soul together again piece by piece.    _I am doing this for you, Cas.  I am doing this because of you._ He would hate Dean for this. _Trust me; I can’t have you destroyed for me. I’m already tearing you apart. I am tearing everything apart. Everything I care about._

As Dean tore out of the parking lot, Sam’s shouts echoing uselessly behind him, he prayed that he wasn’t too late.

 

 


End file.
